


starting over

by kyueunhae



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: M/M, Songfic, consensual drunk sex, its not really jaepil but its not really jaehyungparkian either, overabundance of religious metaphors for some reason, post breakup sex, sadboy smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:00:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28957599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyueunhae/pseuds/kyueunhae
Summary: His name was Wonpil.He was handsome.Jae decided that he would do for the night.
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Park Jaehyung | Jae, Kim Wonpil/Park Jaehyung | Jae
Comments: 7
Kudos: 21





	starting over

_Starting now, I’m starting over._

_I’m gonna sleep with the next person I meet._

_\---_

His name was Wonpil.

He was handsome.

Jae decided that he would do for the night.

**

Sungjin had begged him to come to the party. It had been weeks since Jae had last seen him.

What reason would he have to leave his bedroom? There were none. Not anymore. 

“I know it still hurts, man, but being alone in your apartment isn’t going to make you feel any better.” Sungjin’s deep sigh reverberated from the speaker of Jae's phone. “Come drink with us instead of drinking alone.”

Drinking did assuage the pain.

Drinking did not make him feel happy. Drinking made him feel nothing at all.

There are pros and cons to feeling nothing, Jae decided.

The pros: He _feels_ nothing.

The cons: He feels _nothing_.

In the end, he decided that feeling nothing, not even happiness, was better than the hurt. Because of that, he’d spent more money on alcohol within the past month than he’d ever spent in his entire life- including his four years of college. Therefore, the promise of booze ( _free_ booze) was enticing enough to drag the hermit out of his hole on a Friday evening.

Stained sweatpants and an ancient, too-big hoodie did not make a good party outfit. It didn't occur to him to dress for the occasion.

When he used to go out with Brian, they’d dress like the rock stars they dreamed of being. Brian looked damn good in a leather jacket and a pair of ripped, skin-tight jeans that would catch Jae’s eye all night until he could peel them off once they got home.

He tried not to think about things like that anymore.

There’s no use in dwelling on something that he’d never have again.

**

On the phone, Sungjin told him that there would only be a few people in attendance. “It’s more of a kickback than a real party,” he said, as if Jae would know the difference.

Jae was later faced with the realization that he and Sungjin defined ‘a few people’ differently. In his mind, a few people meant less than ten of his friends (people who wouldn’t care if he got blackout drunk and passed out on the kitchen floor, as he planned to do).

To Sungjin, ‘a few people’ meant a small crowd of unfamiliar faces packed throughout the house.

“I thought you were just inviting Jaebeom and the guys.” Jae hissed into Sungjin’s ear.

“I did invite them.” Sungjin insisted. “But most of them were busy. Dowoon wanted to invite his friends, so I let him.”

The strangers made him apprehensive at first, but he soon appreciated the unfamiliarity. None of them asked where Brian was like his old friends would. None of them asked how he was coping with being dumped by the man he could truly envision spending the rest of his life with.

It gave him an opportunity to pretend he was just like the rest of them there for a good time and not a sad sack with an aching hole in his chest that he needed to fill with bottom-shelf liquor mixed with dollar store soda.

**

Wonpil caught his eye shortly after he arrived. How could he have missed him? A razor-sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a smile like _that_ stood out amongst the crowd. He was a golden sunflower amongst a field of weeds.

Looking as disheveled as he did, Jae resigned himself to admiring the handsome stranger from afar. If he were in anyone else’s shoes, he wouldn’t give himself a second look. He wasn’t sure if it was attraction, kindness, or pity that drew Wonpil to him.

It didn’t matter, though. Wonpil was gorgeous and paying attention to him. 

Gorgeous enough to tear down the mental images of another face from the corkboard of his brain for a bit. 

Wonpil was five-foot-seven, three years younger than him, and a piano tutor. Wonpil was probably many other things as well that Jae couldn’t recall. The things that he remembered about him were superficial, like the way he attentively listened to everything Jae said, hanging onto every word. He laughed at his shitty jokes, too. Each burst of hiccupped laughter boosted Jae’s fragile ego.

Twice, he interrupted Jae midsentence to compliment his eyes.

Nobody had ever complimented his eyes before.

**

Jae drank with reckless abandon. An unknown number of plastic cups full of sickly-sweet mystery cocktails, so many of them that it screamed to the partygoers just how much he truly didn’t care if he lived or died that night. Wonpil drank alongside him. Not as fast, not as many. Jae guessed that his tolerance wasn’t as high as his own.

In the dim light, Wonpil’s smile reached his eyes and his cheeks shined a beautiful shade of crimson.

With each cup, their hands became braver, Jae’s long fingers firmly pressed to Wonpil’s thigh while sitting on the couch, Wonpil’s hand holding Jae’s hip while they returned to the kitchen for more saccharine swill.

Jae’s older sister once told him that the best way to get over someone is to get underneath someone else.

At the time, he had wrinkled up his nose in disgust at the advice because he’d rather not speak to his sister and think about sex at the same time.

Logistically, now, the roles would be flipped. He’d prefer to get on top of someone if he found himself in that predicament, though he had never put much thought into it in the past.

At the party, hand sliding into Wonpil’s back pocket, he did think about it. The dam of sexual tension, that will-we-won’t-we feeling, burst.

Eyes lidded, he leaned in close and whispered.

“Sungjin has a spare bedroom.”

And Wonpil understood.

**

Jae didn’t give Sungjin a heads up before seizing the room for the night. Another wise piece of advice from his sister: ‘tis better to ask forgiveness in the future than ask for permission in the present.

He didn’t have the time to ask, anyway. Wonpil’s greedy mouth met his the moment the door was closed behind them.

Pinning Wonpil’s little frame against the wall took no effort. Under Wonpil’s sweater (garishly pink, argyle, unprepossessing) Jae’s fingers clutched his waist. One of his knees sat firmly between the other’s legs.

Wonpil burned with white-hot desire, desperately seeking friction against Jae’s thigh. Jae caught his lower lip between his teeth and tugged. It pulled a pretty whimper from him.

“You want more?” Jae slurred into Wonpil’s lips. 

“Oh _God,_ yes.” 

**

They nearly tripped over their own feet in a hurry to get across the room and onto the bed. Jae watched Wonpil slip his fingers under the waistband of his sweatpants.

He wasn’t undressed all at once. Wonpil slid down and mouthed at the fabric covering his hard-on. A mixture of spit and precome quickly soaked the polyester through. When they were pulled away, they clung damply to his skin.

Once exposed, Jae’s hand rested atop Wonpil’s curls.

Wonpil tenderly kissed the tip before wrapping his lips around it. Reeling, Jae’s head hit the pillow.

A quarter, half, three quarters of Jae’s length disappeared into Wonpil’s mouth. Jae reveled in the near-inaudible choking sounds as Wonpil bravely kept his head down for as long as he could.

It felt good, _so_ good, that the fingers tangled in Wonpil’s hair clenched into a fist, acting on some sort of animal instinct that drove him to want more. More heat, more wetness, more time against the back of Wonpil’s throat.

But no, he wasn’t thinking before he did it. Wonpil didn’t like it, judging from the wince, so he loosened his grip and pet his hair softly instead. When he came back up for air, a string of saliva connected Wonpil’s lower lip and the head of his cock.

There was something pure, something innocent about the way Wonpil looked up at him, little pink kitten tongue lapping beautiful stripes up the underside of his length. His eyes lacked the sharp ferocity of Brian’s when he was in that same position between Jae’s legs. Never desperate to please him, only desperate to he was in control.

Wonpil’s soft gaze made Jae want to corrupt him.

He wanted those eyes to roll back while his hands explored his body, on him, inside him. He wanted to watch him fall apart.

And then, Wonpil did _something_ with his mouth that felt so good Jae had to push his head away. He was building up too fast, too soon. The sudden feeling of cold air on his sensitive skin made him wince.

“Did I do something wrong? Was that not good?”

“No.” Jae mumbled. “I was about to come.”

Wonpil frowned. “Why didn’t you?”

“I—” Jae swallowed thickly. “I want to fuck you.”

“Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“I’d like that.”

“Okay. Yeah. Cool.”

**

Jae undressed Wonpil like he was unwrapping something delicate, precious. Without his sweater, Jae could admire the soft, smooth skin of his torso. He wasn't particularly built, but there was a statuesque quality about him. A Renaissance sculptor would find him to be a perfect muse. His narrow waist was adorned with a dark stripe of hair trailing from his navel down below the waistband of his jeans that Jae traces with his finger.

In turn, Jae removed his hoodie and tee-shirt. Eyes low, he pretended not to notice that Wonpil’s eyes lingered on the prominent outline of his ribcage and the sharp jut of his hipbones.

The confident Wonpil that didn’t hesitate to strip Jae seemed to disappear as he fumbled with the button of his jeans. Though Jae’s hands weren’t any more dexterous, he assisted in the unbuttoning and unzipping. The denim slid down his legs after.

Slowly and deliberately, Wonpil removed his underwear, the final item of clothing left between the two of them. His cock was exposed, cute and pink and dripping with precome.

Jae sucked in air through his teeth at the sight. “Is all that for me?”

Wonpil shyly nodded.

**

He followed orders well. Jae asked to see him on his back, thighs up against his chest, and he got exactly what he asked for. The view was breathtaking, but he was too impatient to sightsee.

“Do you have any—”

“I don’t, but,” Jae leaned over and pulled the bedside table drawer open, producing a small bottle of lubricant. “Sungjin does.”

“How did you know about that?” Wonpil raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Jae made eye contact with Wonpil as he coated his first and second fingers with the lube. He wanted to make sure that Wonpil was looking at him, only him, with rapt attention.

Wonpil made a quiet noise of surprise when Jae settled his cold fingers at his entrance. He rubbed his fingertips in little teasing circles around the muscles there before slipping his first finger inside.

He was _tight._

Jae noticed Wonpil’s nervous expression as he started to coax his second finger in. “You can do it.” 

A few deep breaths and Wonpil was pliant enough for Jae to get both of his digits in.

“Such a good boy.” Jae murmured.

Wonpil whimpered at the praise.

Jae’s fingers were long enough that he quickly found and bumped against his prostate. Wonpil squirmed and keened, lifting his hips to try and get a better angle, silently begging for Jae’s fingers to sink deeper inside.

Jae pried his fingers apart until he felt that Wonpil was relaxed enough (or until he couldn’t wait any longer to pound him into the mattress). 

“Turn over.”

**

Jae aligned himself between Wonpil’s legs, the tip of his cock pressed up against his hole. “You want it?”

“I do.” Wonpil nodded and gripped at the sheets in anticipation.

“Oh, yeah?” Jae pushed forward slightly, dangerously close to breaching him. “How bad?”

“Bad.” Wonpil whispered into the pillow.

Jae leaned forward and placed his lips on Wonpil’s ear. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you, baby.”

 _Baby._ B-A-B-Y, two syllables that felt foreign and strange wrapped around Jae’s tongue. Brian despised pet names. If there was ever a good time to finally test them out, it was now, with a perfect stranger.

The teasing elicited an impatient whine. “I want you.” 

“Do you want me, or do you need me?” Something about seeing Wonpil on display, modelesque ass and thighs ready and waiting for him, made Jae dizzy with lust.

“ _Need_ you.” Wonpil choked.

**

One swift motion and Jae was inside.

Wonpil swore, something that Jae noticed he hadn’t done yet that night. The sound was so ethereal that it became his mission to try and hear it as many times as he could.

Even prepped, he was tight. Jae shuddered as Wonpil clenched around him.

There were times when Brian was tight like that. When they were fucking practically every day, Jae would fit inside as if God made them both perfect for each other. It was easy and it felt like coming home.

But then there were times when they’d cool off. Maybe Jae got overwhelmed with work or classes or Brian flew to visit his family, forced to go weeks without indulging in each other.

The first time after a break was otherworldly. Trying not to come before they even started took a Herculean effort.

At that moment, Wonpil was almost like that. Except not- because he wasn’t Brian, and nobody felt like Brian did, because he was Brian, the only one of him, Jae’s sun and moon and stars.

No, he can’t think of things like that now. This is the night that he forgets it all.

Jae firmly gripped Wonpil’s hips as he started to create a steady rhythm. With every thrust inside, Wonpil responded with a sharp intakes of breath and sweet little cries.

And yet, it wasn’t right. With Wonpil’s face buried in the pillow, it’s too easy to imagine another in his place.

**

Wonpil moans in protest when Jae suddenly pulls out.

“Can you turn over? I…” Jae hesitates. “I want to see you.”

**

It was a good choice.

Wonpil looked angelic. No, something even more holy than an angel. His dark, wavy hair fanned out onto the pillow like a halo around his face. His lips and cheeks were flushed a deep rose that glowed bright against his golden skin. He looked up at Jae through heavy lidded dark eyes and thick eyelashes and moaned wantonly as Jae filled him once more.

The pounding of Jae’s heart was deafening, yet he could still faintly hear strings of curses from behind the blessed lips and teeth below him like blasphemously profane hymnals.

Too soon, Wonpil muffled his cries of pleasure by covering his mouth with his hands.

“Why are you being quiet, baby?” Jae leaned in close, voice raspy. “Are you scared they’re gonna hear how good you feel right now?

Eyes squeezed shut, Wonpil nods.

“I want to hear you.” Jae gently removed Wonpil’s hands from his face and guided them until they were wrapped around him, pulling him in close, hanging on for dear life.

The angel’s nails carved red half-moons onto his back and sides. It hurt, but it was the kind of pain that only enhanced the pleasure. The stinging made him shiver.   
**

With a strained voice, Wonpil mewled Jae’s name into his ear. 

Jae heard Brian’s voice from back when he used to do the same.

Jae grasped Wonpil’s hips and tilted them up so he could hit the spot that made Wonpil groan so deliciously.

“So g-good.” Wonpil gasps between panted breaths. He threw his head back and bared his soft throat.

Jae roughly pressed his lips below Wonpil’s jaw. He bit and sucked at the subtly salty skin there until Wonpil became a writhing mess underneath him. Purplish-raspberry marks began to bloom, following the trail Jae made from his jaw down to the grooves of his collarbones.

Brian used to shamelessly display the bruises on his neck. He wore them like badges of honor, proud to be marked, eager to let the world know who he really belonged to.

In the last few months they had together, he would wear turtlenecks or scarves until they faded away.

In the last few weeks, he asked Jae to stop leaving them at all.

Wonpil yelped in pain when Jae suddenly bit down too hard.

He whispered an apology and soothed the spot with his tongue. The metallic taste lingered as he pulled back.

**

Jae realized that he had selfishly forgotten to pay attention to Wonpil’s cock, so hard and desperate that it ached. Jae's hand wrapped around it, fingers gently caressing the velvety skin of his shaft. 

If he were to close his eyes, the weight of it in his hand was almost familiar, like another he held before.

Wonpil’s hips jerked frantically up into Jae’s hand. He babbled near-incoherent exaltations, a million ways to express just how good Jae felt inside him. With unshed tears in his eyes, he begged him not to stop, to go harder, deeper.

Jae would, of course, honor such a polite request. With his free hand, he threw one of Wonpil’s legs over his shoulder and drove him hard into the mattress. Everyone outside of the room must have been able to hear his unrestrained whimpers and whines. Neither of them cared- it was a problem they’d deal with later.

The combined sensations of Jae all around him, touching him, inside him, was too much for Wonpil to take all at once.

“ _Jae_ , please, I’m so close-- Please, yes, _please—”_

His eyes met Jae’s as he stumbled and fell over the edge, lips parted into a soft ‘o’ shape. Ropes of come painted lovely Pollock-esque streaks of white across his stomach. The last of it fell over a couple of Jae’s fingers. 

Jae raised his hand to Wonpil’s face. Wordlessly, he dragged his now-sticky thumb along his lower lip.

Wide-eyed, Wonpil clutched Jae’s wrist and obediently opened his mouth to take his fingers in, diligently cleaning them off with little swirls of his tongue.

**

The hand occupying Wonpil’s mouth helped to muffle his overstimulated sobs as Jae continued to pound into him, relentlessly chasing his own orgasm. Wonpil felt so good, so tight around him, but it just wasn’t _right._ Not right enough to get him there.

Despite his attempts to hide these memories away in a forgotten corner of his mind, images of bleached sandy-blonde hair in his fists and swollen strawberry lips on every inch of his body manifest themselves completely uninvited. 

A sharp inhale and then Jae’s vision went white. He swelled and spilled inside Wonpil’s divinely tight heat.

He meant to pull out. (Brian always complained about the mess.) His orgasm ripped through him so quickly, so unexpectedly, that he didn’t get the chance.

**

Wonpil winced when Jae finally extricated himself.

Jae’s hands stay on either side of Wonpil’s head as he leaned over him. The afterglow was spent in silence, save for the sounds of their labored breaths. His eyelids fluttered shut.

They don’t re-open until Wonpil breaks the silence, an unknown amount of time later. It could have been a few seconds; it could have been an hour. He wouldn’t know either way.

“Jae?” Quietly, barely audible.

His thumb brushed up against Jae’s cheek. It came back wet.

**

_Shit._

Jae sat up on his knees and scrubbed his face with the backs of his hands, trying to command the tears to roll back up his cheeks and return to his eyes where they belonged.

If he were completely sober, the tremendous aching in his chest would be too painful to bear. The remaining effects of the alcohol reduced it to a dull throb – however, not dull enough to close the Pandora’s box of tears and uncontrolled emotions that had already opened.

He wanted nothing more than to rip the skin from his hands, burn his fingerprints off, erase the memory of his touch on Wonpil’s body. It wasn’t right. Wonpil was so undeserving of this treatment. He deserved so much better than some heartbroken wreck abusing him for his own emotional gain.

And what would Brian think? He knew he shouldn’t care, it’s over, but Jae’s body didn’t fit with a stranger’s the way that it fit with his.

Disgusting, is what it was. Jae felt like vomiting. Maybe if he emptied the contents of his stomach later, the memories of this night would come up with them.

Wonpil sat up and gingerly wrapped his arms around Jae’s shoulders. Though the intimate embrace filled him with another wave of self-loathing, Jae caved in and buried his head into the crook of Wonpil’s neck and wept bitter tears that burned and stained Wonpil’s unmarred, celestial skin.

“It’s okay.” Wonpil soothed the red spots his nails made on Jae’s back with his fingertips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“God, no.” It hurt. Wonpil was a good person and Jae didn’t feel worthy enough to even be in the same room as him. None of this is Wonpil’s fault and none of it could ever be. “You didn’t make me sad. I’m just— something’s got me fucked up. I’m sorry. I’m all fucked up.”

Wonpil didn’t respond, just pressed his cheek into Jae’s hair in a gesture of silent understanding.

**Author's Note:**

> i love this song and one day it just hit different and inspired this fic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGRqEJ3NS50&ab_channel=TheFormat-Topic
> 
> ngl i barely proofread this, i'm sleep deprived af but that's the only time i actually feel inspired to write so if it sucked that's why  
> there may have been some tense issues b/c i normally write in present tense but i decided to spice it up  
> i'll come back and fix whatever's messy later, i had this idea bouncing around in my head for so long that i just wanted to get it out into the world 
> 
> ty for reading this bad content


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